Lavender
by Kasey
Summary: SAP and ANGST abound... Ken is a 16 year old soccer player when he falls for a handsome American businessman...what happens in the years that follow? Complete, including epilogue!
1. Teaser

Experienced Weiss Kreuz fans and authors:  
  
Forgive me, I beg of you. I am among the unfortunate, uninitiated people, who have never really seen or read the series, but I've formulated an idea of what happens, from the marvelous fanfictions out there that I've read.  
  
This story is an extremely *sappy*, *angsty*, and undoubtedly *horribly* out-of-character pairing between Brad, my favorite clairvoyant, and Ken, a fellow soccer-player. And I mean SAP, SAP, *SAP*, okay?  
  
I understand that this is one of those "rare" pairings, but, well... I kinda like it!  
  
If you actually *like* this, I ask that you *please* reply, because otherwise, I will remove this teaser, stuff the story into my "reject" pile, and hide my head under my bed in complete and utter *shame* until Fall.  
  
If you don't like it, tell me that, too, and I'll remove it even quicker! ^_^  
  
---  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Sap, angst, and shonein-ai situations. Brad+Ken, plus a few other pairs mentioned along the way...  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*  
  
---  
  
"Lavender"  
-Teaser-  
  
---  
  
It was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I'd never thought... Well, everybody says, "I never thought it would happen," but this was beyond the scope of my imagination. I could never have imagined Heaven.  
  
I've never doubted my sexuality. Everyone knew. Mom, Pop, Kase, Yuriko, the whole team... they all knew. That's why nobody thought it was weird when I whistled at that dark-haired man who passed by the field that day.  
  
We were practicing relays. Up the field with the ball, around a cone, back down the field, pass it on. I shouldn't have been watching the people going by, but sometimes it's fun to just people-watch, as Mom called it. Ladies walking by with strollers, girls chattering and giggling as they walked along, and the occasional businessman out for a slow stroll during their coffee break.  
  
That's what I thought he was. A businessman. I was right, in a way. He was handsome, with brown-black hair and wire-rimmed glasses. It was a good day. I was feeling great about myself, about my life, about soccer... so I wolf-whistled. He was startled, and he looked towards the field. Towards me. We weren't so far apart that he couldn't see me grin and wink at him, and I could clearly see the surprise on his face. But that was all I saw--Kase had brought the ball back, and it was my turn to run the ball down the field.  
  
When I got back, the man was gone. I didn't really even notice; you see someone, you whistle, you walk away, life goes on. It's not like they're expected to stay and talk to you. I didn't think about it at all until the next day, when he was back.  
  
"Psst...Ken," Kase whispered as we sat on the grass, adjusting our shin-guards, "Remember that guy you whistled at, yesterday?"  
  
I blinked, and then I remembered. "Yeah. Kinda. Why?"  
  
Kase tilted his head, indicating the benches behind me. "He's back."  
  
I tilted my head and spread my arms as if I was stretching, but it was just so that I could look behind me. Kase was right. It was the same guy! I looked forward again. "I wonder why he's back?"  
  
"Maybe he likes you, Kenken," Kase teased, and I blushed.  
  
"Very funny," I grumbled, standing up. "C'mon."  
  
It was like that for the next few weeks. Every time we had practice, the guy would arrive in time to watch us warm up, and then he'd stick around for about a half hour into the actual practice, before packing up and leaving. It looked like he carried a coffee mug and a laptop, but I wasn't quite sure, and I was too busy with soccer to stop and take a closer look. He was always gone by the time practice ended, so I couldn't talk with him at all.  
  
"Why d'you want to talk with him, anyhow?" Kase asked. "He looks too... businessman-ish, for you."  
  
I shrugged. "Ah, what would you know? He's hot."  
  
Kase snorted. "I can see it now: Joe Somebody, the self-made multi-millionaire, falls for Hidaka Ken, the bumbling soccer player. True love ensues. They move to Australia and start a business manufacturing soccer balls and the 'new-and-improved' shin guards. *Riiiight*. He's too old for you, Ken."  
  
"What d'you mean?" I asked. "He can't be *that* old!"  
  
Kase rolled his eyes. "Ken, you're sixteen. He's got to be at least twenty... maybe twenty-two or more!"  
  
"That's not that old... besides, it's not like anything's gonna happen. Stop grousing. Let's play soccer."  
  
Nothing's gonna happen. That's what I said! Kase was a witness. I'm such a liar.  
  
It was October, and starting to get cold out. I had jogged to our Wednesday evening practice instead of walking. The sky clouded over halfway through the practice, and we agreed to cut it short. I did not look forward to jogging home again in the half-dark, but I braced myself and started off.  
  
I knew somebody hated me when it started raining. Cold, miserable rain, and me in my soccer shorts. It served me right, for not washing my sweat pants, but what're you gonna do? I was cursing the necessity of rain when he pulled up along the road next to me and rolled down his window.  
  
"Need a ride home?" he asked. He wasn't smiling, and that surprised me. You'd think, if someone was offering you a ride home--especially a strange someone--that they'd smile. Right? Ah, I didn't care. I still thought he was handsome.  
  
I gave him a lopsided grin. "I'd like to... but I probably shouldn't. It's not so far..." Only a forty-minute walk, that's all. Not far at all.  
  
There was someone else in the passenger seat. They leaned forward, and I could see a cheerful face surrounded by orange hair. "Hop in, kid," the other man said. "No one should be out in this weather."  
  
I bit my lip. They were being nice, and I didn't see any reason why not... after all, Hidaka Ken knew how to take care of himself. Hidaka Ken was also smart, and knew better than to tell Mom and Pop that he'd hitched a ride with a pair of strangers. "Okay!"  
  
The red-haired man grinned. "Over on this side," he said. I jogged around the car, and opened the door to the back seat. Nobody jumped out at me. Not that I was expecting it, but better safe than sorry, right?  
  
I climbed in quickly, and shut the door. I reached for the seat-belt. "I'm Ken," I said, fighting to get buckled as the car started to move. "Thanks for offering me a ride."  
  
The businessman nodded, glancing at me in the rear-view mirror. The red-head, however, practically turned around in his seat to get a look at me. He looked into my eyes, and I got a creepy sort of feeling down my spine. It was the feeling you get when you *know* there's somebody in the room, but there's no answer. I chalked it up to being stared at by those blue-green eyes--I'd never seen eyes quite that shade, before.  
  
I gulped. I like to talk with people, and sure, I didn't know either of these men, but the minutes of silence seemed awkward. "...Why do you keep coming to watch our soccer practices?" I asked, finally.  
  
"It is an interesting game," the businessman replied. Just then, I realized that he had an accent, a heavy, American accent. I thought it was downright sexy.  
  
The red-head laughed suddenly. I gulped, wide-eyed. Was it something I said? Something the businessman said? Why had he laughed?  
  
"It is an interesting game," the red-head repeated. "So he watches you practice and never attends the games." I noticed a slight accent in this man's voice, too, but it was barely noticeable, and I could not place its origins. The man laughed again. He offered me his hand. "You can call me Shu."  
  
"Shu," I repeated, shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you."  
  
"Ah. And you can call him Brad," Shu said, indicating the businessman. "He's been coming to the practices to watch you, you know."  
  
I felt myself blush. "To watch me?"  
  
Brad's expression turned from blank to somewhat dark. "Shuldich..." he said, in a threatening tone.  
  
Shu shrugged, and turned back around in his seat. He put his hands behind his head. "Ah, don't deny it, Brad! Tell him!"  
  
Brad looked like he wanted to hurt something very badly, and quite frankly, his expression scared me. After a few moments, he calmed down. Haltingly, he spoke. "Yes. What he said... is true. I come to watch you."  
  
My eyes must have gotten as wide as soccer balls. Well, tennis balls, anyhow. "Y-you're kidding... right?" Nobody comes to watch Hidaka Ken... nobody! A face like this is *not* bishonen material.  
  
Shu's shoulder's were shaking, and it took me a moment to realize that he was trying to suppress laughter, and not doing a good job of it. But what was so funny? Sure, I was a little naive... maybe just a bit *too* naive.  
  
"No," Brad said. "I'm not."  
  
"Uh..." Oh, eloquence. That's the word, right? That's what you use when somebody says something and you pop up with a bright, witty reply that sounds well thought-out and makes everyone around you laugh. Right? Well, where is it, when you need it?  
  
"Here we go," Shu said, still chuckling. "This is your house, right?" I looked out the window. Sure enough, we were in front of my house.  
  
"Y-yeah." I unbuckled, and opened the door. "Thanks," I said, stepping out. "Um... I guess... I'll see you at practice, then?" Brad nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. He looked back at the road, and the lights from the street-lamps caught his eyes, turning them a magnificent shade of gold... Woah, Ken, slow down...  
  
Shu laughed again. "Goodbye!" he said, and I shut the door. Shu waved, once, and they drove away. As I walked up to the house, my head was full of Brad, and Shu, and soccer practice, and I never gave a thought to the fact that Brad had not asked me where I lived.  
  
---  
---  
  



	2. Part 1

Experienced Weiss Kreuz fans and authors:  
  
Forgive me, I beg of you. I am among the unfortunate, uninitiated people, who have never really seen or read the series, but I've formulated an idea of what happens, from the marvelous fanfictions out there that I've read.  
  
This story is an extremely *sappy*, *angsty*, and undoubtedly *horribly* out-of-character pairing between Brad, my favorite clairvoyant, and Ken, a fellow soccer-player. And I mean SAP, SAP, *SAP*, okay?  
  
I understand that this is one of those "rare" pairings, but, well... I kinda like it!  
  
---  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Sap, angst, and shonein-ai situations. Brad+Ken, plus a few other pairs mentioned along the way...  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*  
  
---  
  
"Lavender"  
-Part One-  
  
---  
  
I waved to Brad as I jogged around the field. I got a rather warm feeling in my stomach when he glanced up from his laptop and waved back. I couldn't help it--I grinned, happy for myself, happy for life, and especially happy that I was wearing warm-up sweats instead of freezing shorts.  
  
"What'd you do?" Kase asked, catching up to me as we jogged around the track. "Follow him home?"  
  
"Nope. He gave me a ride home, last week, when it started raining."  
  
"And you *accepted* him?!"  
  
I glanced at my friend. "Yeah..."  
  
"What did your *mom* say?"  
"Nothing."  
  
"You didn't tell her."  
  
"I'm not *stupid*, Kase," I huffed. "I can take care of myself."  
  
"Sure," Kase said. "That's what they all say."  
  
"Well, I can..."  
  
"Hey! Ken, Kase!!" We looked in to the field. Our coach was hailing us. "C'mon in! We're gonna run some drops and sprints." Ah, well. That was it, for talking. Now, it was time for soccer.  
  
---  
  
"Would you like to get something warm, to drink?"  
  
I'm so easily embarrassed. As soon as Brad asked, I must have turned red from my nose to my ears. "S-sure!" I'd gotten to practice early, because it was cold and I had jogged to keep warm, again. Brad was there, too. The only change about him, compared to the first day I saw him, was that he was wearing a long, black coat to keep away the cold. I wondered if he always wore the same suit. I asked him to stay after practice, so we could talk, and he did. And now, he asked me if I'd like to get a drink.  
  
"Good." Brad gathered his belongings--the coffee mug and the laptop--and stood up. He was so tall! I had to look up to look into his face. Not that that was a bad thing...  
  
We walked from the soccer field, and I could feel Kase's eyes on my back. I tried to ignore him, though. After all, I was going to get a drink with a handsome businessman who braved bad and cold weather to watch *me* practice soccer.  
  
The coffee shop was nice, warm, and quiet. Brad ordered a latte, and I ordered a hot chocolate. We sat there in silence, for a few moments. Brad was the first to speak.  
  
"Would you like something to eat?" I blinked, mostly because I was expecting a more creative ice-breaker. Brad smiled slightly. "It will be a few minutes before the hot chocolate is ready, but they have some nice pastries, here." He flagged down a waitress, and within a minute, we each had a steaming apple tart in front of us.  
  
I was considering the best way to eat the tart, when Brad picked up a cake-fork, and set to with that. Not wanting to embarrass myself by eating with my fingers, I copied him.  
  
We still hadn't really spoken when the waitress returned, five minutes later, with our drinks. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "The cocoa machine quit, and it took us a while to get the milk hot enough again." I smiled, and accepted the steaming mug from her. She set down Brad's latte, he nodded, and she walked away.  
  
"How'd you know the hot chocolate was going to be late?" I asked Brad.  
  
Brad shrugged, and took a sip of his latte. After a moment, he spoke. "Ken..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
He seemed to be weighing things in his head. Options. Lots of options. What was he considering?  
  
"I think you're beautiful."  
  
Mom told me that decorum meant not spraying your host or friends with lemonade at birthday parties. Of course, that had been a long time back. That was then, this was now. Now, decorum meant not spraying the hot businessman with just-as-hot chocolate. I was glad for my success. Mom would have been proud of me. I think.  
  
I swallowed. "...You...do?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
I think I already mentioned that I embarrass easily. I blushed, again. I couldn't help it! Brad was being so nice, and this felt almost like... a date. A date. A date. Oh. Shit.  
  
Brad must have seen that I was uncomfortable. "Why did you whistle at me?"  
  
I looked down into my mug. "I saw you walking by... I thought you were kind of hot... I-I didn't really think about it..."  
  
"I thought about you for the rest of the day."  
  
My head shot up, and I met Brad's eyes. "You did?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
I could feel my foot tapping, under the table. I was so tense! And for some reason, I did *not* want to say the wrong thing...  
  
"I... I was hoping I didn't offend you," I said, somewhat stupidly.  
  
"You didn't."  
  
"Ah." I sighed. "Good."  
  
"On the contrary, you..." Brad paused. "You interest me."  
  
"I do?" Hidaka Ken, the Master of the Two-Word Rhetorical Question. Slap some smarts into your head, man!  
  
"I'd... I'd like to see you, again."  
  
Maybe... maybe Brad *was* thinking of this as a date... I know *I* didn't know *what* to think... Except that I was sitting nice and cozy in a corner of a coffee shop with a businessman who said he liked me. Ah, yes, being a teenager...  
  
"You would?"  
  
Brad gave me that soft smile again. I must have looked like a girl, because I *felt* like I was going to melt all over the floor. "Yes," he said.  
  
Now my other foot was tapping, too. I had my napkin wrapped around my hands, and was close to tearing it in half. I composed myself. Sort of. "I... I'd like that," I replied shakily. "Yeah."  
  
"Good." He didn't talk very much, but when he did... Oh, Mommy...  
  
I sipped the last of my hot chocolate. "So... what would you like to do?"  
  
He finished off his latte. "What do you like to do?"  
  
I really hoped this wouldn't turn into a what-do-you-want-to-do, no,-tell-me-what-you-want-to-do kind of discussion. That would get *really* boring, and *very* annoying.  
  
"I like to play soccer," I said. Brad nodded. He knew that one. "I like kids... um. I like to go down to the park, or the seaside..."  
  
"The park?" Brad asked. "To walk?" I nodded. He smiled. I melted. "Let's do that, then."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Next Saturday." Perfect. He'd picked a day when I had absolutely *nothing* planned. Somebody up there liked me.  
  
"Great!" I was so ecstatic, and I didn't really even understand why.  
  
---  
  
Brad and I met, off and on, for months. There came a point when he started missing my soccer practices, but he explained that his boss was tired of his extended coffee breaks, and I understood. The park became our meeting-ground. Rain, snow, and slush did nothing to stop us from getting together and walking through the trees.  
  
We talked a lot. Brad told me that he was the head of a small section of a larger firm, called Estet, that was not based locally. They had moved him to Japan from America, and put him to work with Shu. He had other business partners, but he never talked about them.  
  
Brad loved to hear about my life, even though he was reluctant to talk about his. He would laugh at what I did in school and in soccer, and he offered me advice for some of my classes. It got to the point where my first thought, waking up in the morning, was whether or not I would get to see Brad that day. I was falling in love, hard, and I knew it. Brad knew it, too.  
  
---  
  
"Ken..."  
  
"...Yeah?"  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
I looked up at the full moon, feeling delightfully romantic, and *knowing* that this was why Brad had insisted that I meet him, late, in the park. "It's beautiful."  
  
"Yes."  
  
We stared up at the shining white disk that the moon presented to us. I sighed as I felt Brad's arm around me.  
  
"Ken..."  
  
"...Yeah?"  
  
"I'm bad with words, Ken."  
  
I closed my eyes, and an image of Brad superimposed itself over the memory of the moon. "I don't care." Just keep holding me like this...  
  
"I'm in love with you, Ken."  
  
I knew it. I knew he was going to say it, and I felt my insides turning like a mixer as he tightened his arm around me. I put my arm around his waist.  
  
"Brad..."  
  
"Ah." Brad turned and looked down into my eyes. I'd grown a bit over the last five months, but Brad was still almost a head taller than me. "Yes, Ken?"  
  
I pressed my cheek against his chest. "Brad... I'm in love with you, too," I murmured into his shirt.  
  
"Ah." He pulled me even closer, and we held each other. I didn't know what to think about the feelings surrounding me, only that I knew I'd never been happier, and that I would never want anyone who wasn't Brad. My Brad. I laughed softly as I realized how possessive I had grown.  
  
"My Ken," I heard Brad whisper. I laughed. "Hm?"  
  
I shook my head. "Nothing!" I looked up into his eyes. "You mean it?"  
  
"Yes..." He put a finger under my chin. "Would you let me kiss you, to prove it?"  
  
I blushed. "Y-yes!" My first kiss... my first kiss... oh, *Brad*...  
  
I didn't want it to end. I wanted it to last... I wanted to suffocate, because it felt so good, pressing my lips softly against his. He smelled like lavender soap and coffee, and I loved it.  
  
He pulled away for just a moment. He was smiling. "Mm... Ken?"  
  
I didn't realize I had closed my eyes until I had to open them again. "...Y-yeah?"  
  
"First kiss?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Are you happy?"  
  
I gaped. My Brad was acting unusually romantic, but, oh, Heaven and Hell, I was going to take advantage of it.  
  
"Not as happy as I would be..." Brad's face fell. "...If you were still kissing me," I finished. I managed to fit a bit of coyness into my voice, an invitation. And so help me, Brad took the bait.  
  
I'm not sure when I actually got home that night. I do remember climbing the tree outside my window, so that I wouldn't wake Mom and Pop. Mostly, I remember Brad's kisses and soft words of love, and the feeling of pure content that washed me through my window and into my bed.  
  
This had to be true love.  
  
---  
---  
  



	3. Part 2

Experienced Weiss Kreuz fans and authors:  
  
Forgive me, I beg of you. I am among the unfortunate, uninitiated people, who have never really seen or read the series, but I've formulated an idea of what happens, from the marvelous fanfictions out there that I've read.  
  
This story is an extremely *sappy*, *angsty*, and undoubtedly *horribly* out-of-character pairing between Brad, my favorite clairvoyant, and Ken, a fellow soccer-player. And I mean SAP, SAP, *SAP*, okay?  
  
I understand that this is one of those "rare" pairings, but, well... I kinda like it!  
  
---  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Sap, angst, and shonein-ai situations. Brad+Ken, plus a few other pairs mentioned along the way...  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*  
  
---  
  
"Lavender"  
-Part Two-  
  
---  
  
I knew it. I'd been in love with a man for too long. I was starting to act like a girl. Or maybe I was honestly upset.  
  
"No!" I pouted. I yelled. I whined. "No, no, no!!"  
  
"Ken," Brad pleaded, "Stop! Please!" He pulled me into a tight embrace and held me there. I was strong from soccer, but Brad, my Brad, was so much stronger.  
  
Oh, God, it was tearing me up inside. "You can't," I whispered. "Don't go..." Damn it all, I could feel tears in my eyes. Boys weren't supposed to cry!  
  
"Ken, I'm sorry..." I could tell it was hurting him, too... I wanted to think irrationally. I wanted to think that I should mean more to him than Estet, that no matter what Estet said, he would stay in Japan, with me. But I knew I couldn't. I couldn't give him that kind of guilt, because I loved him too much. I didn't want to hurt him like that.  
  
"B-Brad..." I was really crying, now, and hating it. I hated it because it showed how weak I was, and I knew that Brad was already upset about this all... He'd never seen me cry. Losing soccer games, failing papers in school, getting picked on because I was gay... that was all dust in the wind, compared to losing Brad.  
  
"I'll try to get them to send me back, Ken, honest," Brad whispered. "I love you. I love you."  
  
Those words. They hurt, and they felt good, and damn it all!! "Brad, I love you..."  
  
"I have to go."  
  
I held him as close as possible. How could I know whether or not this was permanent? The last time I'd see him? "When?"  
  
"Tomorrow morning."  
  
"What if the plane crashes? What'll they do, then, huh?" I asked. I glared up at him, forgetting that I was crying. My own tears fell back and stung my eyes, and I buried my nose in his shoulder. "Are they gonna send me compensation? Nothing would make up for... Brad, I don't *want* to let you go..."  
  
"I'll make it safely," Brad assured me. He was always assuring me of everything. It was like he would always know what was going to happen. If he missed a game, and we lost, before I even told him what happened, he would be there, comforting me, telling me that I'd have better luck next time, and, oh, God, telling me how much he loved me.  
  
I felt sick. From my stomach to my throat, my entire body had frozen, and it hurt. He dropped me off at my house, and gave me one last, sweet, lavender-scented kiss. He watched as I climbed back into my room, and I stood at my window as he whispered, "I love you," and drove away.  
  
---  
---  
  
Brad, my one true love, was gone. Kase, my best friend, was dead. Yuriko, my other best friend... well, how could I even talk to her? I didn't even have a reason to live anymore. As far as anyone was concerned, Hidaka Ken was dead, too.  
  
"Excuse me..."  
  
I looked up. My new teammate, Tsukiyono Omi, was standing in my doorway. "Yeah?"  
  
He smiled disarmingly. "Manx came by. We've got a mission." I'll never understand how he could say that and still sound cheerful.  
  
Manx. My new boss. She gave me the reasons to continue living. Weiss. I was part of Weiss. It was just me and Omi, then. Manx gave us a mission, and we carried it out.  
  
"Okay." I stood up, sighing.  
  
"What's wrong?" Omi asked.  
  
"Hn? Nothing." I stretched, and followed Omi into the hallway, and down the stairs. At least the living quarters were decent. I should have been happy. Happy that I was alive, happy that the sun was shining, happy that I was working in a flower shop. Hell, I should have been happy just because Omi sent off little gamma-rays of happy, happy, happy! every thirty seconds. But I wasn't. "What's come up?"  
  
"It's a small mission, but important," Omi replied as we reached the basement, where all of our mission materials were stored. "There's going to be a meeting between the leaders of two rings--drugs, and kidnapping. They're considering some sort of partnership. I did some research, and it would be just like these kidnappers to use the drugs to help them with their jobs..." He thrust some papers at me, with photographs attached. I looked them over.  
  
"These two?" I pointed to the two men at the top of one page.  
  
Omi looked over. "Yeah. The meeting's tomorrow. The only reason it's possible for us to get them, is because the meeting is going to be a coffee-shop deal." I grimaced. I had such sweet memories of that one coffee shop, and now I had a whole new opinion of men sitting in the backs of such shops, talking quietly to one another. Brad, I thought, shaking my head, maybe it's better that you're gone. The thought didn't make me feel any better.  
  
"K-Ken?"  
  
I looked up, blinking. "Sorry... yes?"  
  
Omi frowned thoughtfully, chewing on a pencil. Then he shrugged. "Anyhow, we're supposed to monitor the deal--and tape it, of course--and as soon as they've separated, take them out. Each will only have one 'associate,' because any more will make it look suspicious. Does that make sense?"  
  
"Got it," I said. How could this little kid understand all of this? Plan all this? I figured he must have gone through a lot worse than I did... I didn't dare ask him, afraid that maybe he really had. "Anything else?"  
  
"Just one thing," Omi said. "Manx didn't give it to us, but while I was searching..." He shuffled through a few more papers, and pulled up a printout. "We're not the only ones after these guys. There's a private investigator named Kudou Youji, who's been on the trail of the kidnapping ring for a couple of weeks, now. I've read up on some stuff he's solved... Chances are, if Kritiker knows about this coffee-shop deal, Kudou does, too. We'll have to watch out for him."  
  
I nodded. We couldn't let bystanders get hurt. That was rule number one, in Weiss. Protect the innocent. If you can't be them...  
  
---  
  
It was so bad of me. I shook, as I walked into that coffee shop. It was just like the one Brad and I had sat in, when he told me I was beautiful. All smells and cheer and white-and-blue tiled floors. But no Brad.  
  
I knew where they would sit. The corner furthest from the door, and most in the shadows. I ordered a small tea and cookie, and took the seat. It would be forty-three minutes before they arrived.  
  
It took me a little while, but I finally found the perfect place to set the minute transceiver that Omi had given me. It was a niche, just under one of the table legs. I flipped the device 'on,' and stuck it in the small crevice. Wandering hands would not be able to dislodge it, and searching hands would not be able to recognize it. Perfect.  
  
I finished my tea and cookie, paid my bill, and left. Omi was waiting for me, across the street. "Is it set?" he asked quietly. I nodded. There was a lump in my throat, again. I could just imagine, someday, I would be setting up a similar transceiver in the same coffee shop that Brad had taken me to...  
  
Brad. It hurt so much to think about him! When I found out that Omi used a lavender-scented shampoo, I nearly cried. I certainly didn't play soccer. Every player in the league knew that Hidaka Ken, the fastest-rising soccer player in J-league, had died in an explosion. Oh, Brad, maybe I did.  
  
I wondered if Brad thought I was dead. And, at the time, I thought, maybe it was better if he did. Brad, I thought, what would you think of your Ken, now? I'm a killer, Brad. I kill people. And I'm paid to do it. Goodbye, Brad.  
  
So much for true love.  
  
---  
  
"Ken... Ken, open your eyes."  
  
"Not unless she's stopped moving," I bit out.  
  
"We've got to get out of here, Ken!"  
  
I opened my eyes. The leader of the drug ring was dead--Between Omi's arrow, and my knife, there was no way he was moving on his own, ever again. The kidnappers, however, had gotten away.  
  
Kudou Youji had shown up, with his partner, a young woman. There was a blur... running, yelling, shooting, blood, a scream, more blood... She was in the air, held up by the force of the bullets passing through her body. She fell, and Kudou screamed again.  
  
"What about him?" I asked. Kudou had completely passed out. I could hear sirens in the distance. I may not have been with Weiss long, but I did know that, immediately after a mission, sirens were the last thing you wanted to hear. Being a PI, I was sure Kudou felt the same way.  
  
Omi measured his choices carefully, glancing between the woman's body, the drug lord's body, and the sound of the sirens coming closer. "Grab him," he said. "Grab him, and we'll go."  
  
I picked up Kudou, and threw him across my shoulders. He wasn't injured, so it wouldn't hurt him any further--I was just lucky that he weighed so little. I nodded to Omi, and we disappeared into the back streets and trees, far away from the coffee shop.  
  
---  
---  
  



	4. Part 3

Experienced Weiss Kreuz fans and authors:  
  
Forgive me, I beg of you. I am among the unfortunate, uninitiated people, who have never really seen or read the series, but I've formulated an idea of what happens, from the marvelous fanfictions out there that I've read.  
  
This story is an extremely *sappy*, *angsty*, and undoubtedly *horribly* out-of-character pairing between Brad, my favorite clairvoyant, and Ken, a fellow soccer-player. And I mean SAP, SAP, *SAP*, okay?  
  
I understand that this is one of those "rare" pairings, but, well... I kinda like it!  
  
---  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Sap, angst, and shonein-ai situations. Brad+Ken, plus a few other pairs mentioned along the way...  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*  
  
---  
  
"Lavender"  
-Part Three-  
  
---  
  
Kudou Youji became part of Weiss. I'll never forget the shadows in his eyes, for the first few months we were all together, working in that flower shop. He was such a good-looking man, the girls and women would come in just to stare at him, and try to flirt. But I recognized the look in his eyes. Hopelessness. The same feeling I had when I thought I'd never see Brad again.  
  
Youji healed, or, at least, we thought he did. He started dating, slowly at first. Then he became a fanatic about it. Every woman over the age of eighteen who walked into our little flower shop very nearly found herself accosted by him. He would trade working shifts in order to make time for as many dates as he could fit into his schedule. Date, after date, after date. Omi and I figured that he had gotten over losing his girlfriend and partner, and that this was Youji's way of enjoying life. We weren't going to complain.  
  
But even as Youji got better, I got worse. I remember waking up one night, very nearly screaming. I had met Brad, in my dreams. We hugged, and we kissed, and I laughed, and then... Brad told me it was over. He said goodbye, and he walked away from me. In my dreams! And... I let him... I let him walk away.  
  
I woke up, feeling wretched. I had to get out.  
  
I dressed, and went outside, leaving a note in case Omi or Youji got worried. I walked down the sidewalk. I don't know how long I walked, but I had a feeling... I wanted to go to the park. I started running.  
  
It wasn't that far to the park, but when I got there, I was panting, very close to hyperventilation. The smell hit me, hard. Lavender. It permeated the air, drowning me. I knew, I just knew...  
  
I ran into the park, through the trees. It was dark, so dark, but I ran.  
  
"Uhn!!"  
  
"Brad!" I had run into somebody, but I knew who it was, and he knew it was me. Strong arms circled around me, crushing me as I cried against his chest. "Brad!"  
  
"Oh, Ken..."  
  
It was minutes before I had calmed down enough to stop sobbing and choking out his name. My throat hurt, and my eyes stung, and the front of his shirt was damp from my tears, but I had him, and I was happy again.  
  
Brad led me to a park bench, and we sat down, never letting go. More minutes passed, and my breathing slowed. I wanted to lean against him, forever, just like this.  
  
"Ken..."  
  
I clutched his hand tighter. "...Yeah?"  
  
"I heard you were dead."  
  
"I-I'm a better survivor than that."  
  
"I thought so." He squeezed my hand.  
  
"How long have you been back?" I asked.  
  
"Not long."  
  
"Oh." The way we sat, Brad still had one arm around me, and I was able to loop both of my arms around his chest. I hugged closer to him. "Brad..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I love you. Always."  
  
I felt Brad's hand on my back clench. "Ken... I'm sorry."  
  
I blinked as a feeling of dread passed through me. "What do you mean... Brad? Brad?!"  
  
He was standing up. Pushing me away. Oh, God, he was walking away from me. He turned, slightly.  
  
"We can't do this, anymore," he said softly. "Goodbye, Ken."  
  
"N-no!!" I yelled, and jumped after him. I grabbed his arm. "You can't... don't!!" I cried. "Don't say that!" He didn't wrench his arm away. He pulled me close, quickly, and pressed his lips to mine.  
  
As tight as my throat was, it was hard for me to breath, harder still as Brad kissed me. I didn't care. I held onto his wrist, giving back as good as I got. It was such a rough kiss, all biting and licking and tears and sobs... When we parted, I didn't have enough air to stand on my own, and I fell to my knees. "Brad..."  
  
He still held my hand. "Goodbye, Ken," he whispered, drawing away. "I loved you. God, Ken, I loved you..."  
  
He was gone. Gone. Gone.  
  
Brad. I thought I really was dead, then.  
  
---  
---  
  
I didn't have much time to brood. A week later, Aya joined Weiss, followed by a flood of bloody missions. Between working the flower shop, completing missions, and shoving barely enough food in my face to survive, I hardly had time to sleep, much less dream. Then we encountered the Living Chess Game.  
  
I don't know how we survived through it. I do remember five figures stalking haughtily away from us, as if there weren't a thing we could do to stop them... and there wasn't. I saw them from a distance, and wondered who they were. I wondered if we would run into them again.  
  
"Here's all the information we've been able to collect," Manx said. She sounded proud of herself, considering that what she handed us was no more than two pieces of paper. "They are an international underground organization. You must continue to research them--new information *may* save your lives, and the lives of innocents. Good luck." She walked out.  
  
Aya spoke up, first. "Youji. You and Ken take care of the store. Omi and I will get started on this."  
  
"Aye-aye, Aya!" Youji exclaimed, saluting our unofficial leader and grinning stupidly. "C'mon, Ken... you run deliveries, and I'll mind the ladies... that is, of course, I mean the store..."  
  
Omi shook his head, and started reading the paper aloud as we ascended the stairs. "...Connections to an establishment known as Estet, their leader is an American man named Bradley Crawford. Research into family shows that..."  
  
The door had fully closed behind me when I realized what he'd just read. Estet. Bradley Crawford. Bradley. Brad. My Brad. My American Brad. Estet. Oh, God...  
  
"Ken?" Youji asked, concerned. "Are you okay?" He waved a hand in front of my face, looking for a reaction. I don't think he got one.  
  
Brad. God. How was it possible that Brad was mixed up with these people we were fighting against? It wasn't possible. Not my Brad. I felt sick. Horribly sick. "Y-Youji... I'm gonna go get some air," I said weakly.  
  
"Air? Do you want me to come with? You look like you're gonna fall over."  
  
"N-no!" I exclaimed. "I've gotta go, on my own!" I ran from the house. I don't know why, but Youji didn't try to follow me. I'm glad that he didn't, because I knew who I was looking for. I ran directly to the park.  
  
He was waiting for me, by a fountain. I wasn't sure I wanted to know how he knew I was going to be there. I stopped, a few feet in front of him. There was one thing missing, I noticed, and the lack of it hit me, hard.  
  
"You don't smell like lavender," I said softly.  
  
"I told you, Ken," he said gruffly, "It's over. We can't do this any more."  
  
I took a step towards him. He didn't move. "Why?" I asked softly. "Tell me why, Brad."  
  
He looked into my eyes. "You're too pure for me, Ken," he said. His voice was almost apologetic, but firm.  
  
I shook my head. "I'm not... not anymore. Brad... why?!"  
  
He stepped forward, and put out a hand to touch my cheek. "Pure," he repeated. "Pure. White. Weiss."  
  
I gasped, and took a step back, my eyes going wide. I hadn't... I had only seen him once, since I joined Weiss, and I hadn't told him... so, how...?  
  
He dropped his arm. "And I am dirty," he spat. "Dirty. Black. Schwarz."  
  
I shook my head. "I don't understand," I whispered. I couldn't look him in the eye.  
  
"I know what you do, Ken," he said. "And you'll know what I do. It won't work, if we're together."  
  
I tasted bitterness on my tongue. "Not together? I thought you loved me."  
  
Brad closed his eyes, and took another step towards me. He put his hand on my shoulder. "I did."  
  
I don't know why, but I reached out to embrace him. "I still love you," I said hotly. "Even if you don't love me. I would stop...Weiss. I want to be with you, Brad..."  
  
I felt him twitch, and one of his hands tangled in my hair.  
  
Then I heard it. A now, all-too-familiar click, and a voice I barely recognized. "Go," he said.  
  
Still holding tightly to Brad, I looked behind him. A red-haired man in a green double-breasted coat was aiming a gun towards us. Shu.  
  
"The name is Shuldich," Shu said. "Get out of here, Siberian."  
  
My hands and body turned ice-cold. He knew my Weiss code-name. Brad knew I was part of Weiss. They both worked for Estet. Brad was pushing me away again. No!  
  
"Don't shoot, Shuldich," Brad said, over his shoulder. He pushed me away. "Go, Ken. And don't try to find me, again."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Go!"  
  
Brad, Shu, the gun, and Brad again. I was confused. I was scared. The man I was in love with was telling me to leave and to never look for him again. What was I supposed to do?  
  
"Crawford..."  
  
"Don't shoot, Shuldich!" Brad commanded. "Ken, run! Go, get out of here." He glanced at Shu, and then back at me. "Go! This is the only time I'm ever going to save you, Ken. Next time, I'm not even going to try. GO!!"  
  
I went.  
  
I ran.  
  
And I cried.  
  
---  
---  
  



	5. Part 4

Experienced Weiss Kreuz fans and authors:  
  
Forgive me, I beg of you. I am among the unfortunate, uninitiated people, who have never really seen or read the series, but I've formulated an idea of what happens, from the marvelous fanfictions out there that I've read.  
  
This story is an extremely *sappy*, *angsty*, and undoubtedly *horribly* out-of-character pairing between Brad, my favorite clairvoyant, and Ken, a fellow soccer-player. And I mean SAP, SAP, *SAP*, okay?  
  
I understand that this is one of those "rare" pairings, but, well... I kinda like it!  
  
---  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Sap, angst, and shonein-ai situations. Brad+Ken, plus a few other pairs mentioned along the way...  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*  
  
---  
  
"Lavender"  
-Part Four-  
  
---  
  
I had enough reason to hate Estet, and Schwarz. Soon, I had plenty of reason to hate Brad, too. I tried. I tried to convince myself that he was evil. I tried to think like Aya, and get my revenge. I tried to think like Omi, and consider how Brad played a part in the loss of my family.  
  
And every chance I got, I snuck down to the park, and waited. In vain.  
  
Some times, I think it felt like years and years... other times, I realize that the whole extended ordeal passed in a flash. Yuriko came and went. Kase came back... I'd thought he was dead. Before he was dead, I'd thought he was my best friend. Maybe he was... Brad and I were in love, after all. Then this all happened... and everything was backwards and upside-down. Brad, who had told me to leave him, was protecting a corrupt politician, and Kase tried to kill me. So, now Kase really is dead. This time, I saw it happen.  
  
It was bloody mission after emotional breakdown after bloody mission after emotional breakdown, on and on and on again... If it wasn't me, it was poor Omi, or Aya. Then Youji. And then the whole cycle would start over again.  
  
Our run-ins with Schwarz became more and more frequent, neither of us ever quite managing to take down a member of the opposing team. I got used to battling with Farfarello... and I never failed to notice, with hope, that Brad would rather send him in to fight me, than to fight me, himself.  
  
Things looked up around the time Taketori finally bumped off, and Aya-chan woke up. Aya, or Ran, anyway, tried to resume a 'normal' lifestyle. We all tried to. But the missions didn't stop when Taketori did... they just started coming from different sources. Kritiker ran us to the ground, and after a short while, we realized we couldn't work for them, anymore.  
  
Weiss. We were still Weiss. After all we'd been through, our hands were stained in every sense of the word. We had seen and done it all. I can't say there were no regrets--we'd done a lot of good, but in between, there was so much bad...  
  
Schwarz showed up again. Estet may have been out of business, but Schwarz, like Weiss, still had too much on their hands to step back into the real world and be accepted as people.  
  
"We can't handle this," Youji said, shaking his head. "Not all four of them at once."  
  
"We have a chance," Aya--Ran--said. "And we have to take it."  
  
"They're not our enemy, anymore," I said. I had been standing away from my teammates, not really liking what we were trying to plan. "Why do we have to go after them?"  
  
"Schwarz," Aya spat. "If they're given the chance, they'll do everything they've done before, again."  
  
Omi looked almost as uncomfortable as I was. "It would be impossible for us to go up against *all* of them at once," he said. "They'll see us coming."  
  
"And if that kid's with them, we've got no chance," Youji pointed out. "He's more than a match for all of us, on his own."  
  
Aya was set in his plan, though. That, and we had a job offer from Kritiker, who didn't seem to be holding a grudge for our deserting them. Kritiker probably guessed that we were the only ones who knew Schwarz well enough to be able to get rid of them... and we probably were. Leave it to Aya to try to make money off of the impossible. It's not that I don't like the guy, but I've seen donkeys that were less stubborn.  
  
It got worse, as Aya outlined the plan. He knew that Brad... excuse me, *Crawford* would know what we were planning, and there was nothing he could do about that.  
  
"Omi, you'll keep us all up-to-date, until they're all in the building."  
  
"What's the lure, again?"  
  
"A job offer," Aya said. "It's the only way they can keep going, now that Estet is off-line." Omi nodded, and Aya went on. "As soon as everyone's in, you track down Farfarello. Make sure to stay behind him, and not to make any noise. You *have* to get him from behind, and fast."  
  
"And then run like Hell," Youji supplied, yawning.  
  
"Right," Omi said, shaking his head. I couldn't blame him--this whole mission looked like one big accident, waiting for a place to happen.  
  
"Youji, on Omi's cue, you'll be going after Nagi. Stay silent, and move fast before he realizes you're there."  
  
"Ah, I know my job," Youji replied. "But I'm blaming you if they find me buried under two tons of rubble."  
  
Aya ignored him. "I'm taking Shuldich," he said, and I felt my heart drop out through my feet. I knew where that left me. "Ken, that leaves you with Crawford. You'll have to tire him out and--"  
  
"Can I take Shu--Shuldich?" I stuttered.  
  
Aya frowned. "Shuldich is tough. I didn't want to--"  
  
"No!" I cut in. "I... I can handle Shuldich, I think. I'm just not sure about... Crawford." Not sure about? Oh, Ken, you're such a liar. I just couldn't imagine... facing Brad, truly intending to kill him... no. I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it.  
  
It seemed I was cursed. Aya stood his ground, insisting on taking the harder mission of destroying the Mind Reader. Crawford, he said, wouldn't be so tough if I could get him tired, first. I was stuck. Stuck. Damn.  
  
I couldn't sleep, that night. I lay in my bed and stared up at the ceiling, not seeing it. I was picturing myself, and Brad... I saw us fighting. Scenes played and replayed in my head: Me, killing Brad, or Brad, killing me. In one scene, I delivered a fatal blow, just as Brad shot me. We went down together... for some reason, it was the least upsetting scene I had imagined.  
  
That was it. I knew I wasn't going to sleep. I dressed, and walked down to the park. It was midnight, and I was the only one sitting by the fountain, watching the sparkles in the water. I thought over that last scene again and again, realizing that the thought of Brad dying made me... made me...  
  
"I can't want to die," I whispered to the fountain. "Omi and Youji and Aya would hate me. Aya-chan, too. And Momoru... They'd all hate me."  
  
But I couldn't kill Brad. I thought of every possible way... Attacking him with my eyes closed... Trying to berserk, so I wouldn't realize what I was doing until it was over... Wearing him out and stunning him, leaving him for someone else to deal with... I shuddered with each thought, and shook my head. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill Brad.  
  
The only thing I could do... was to not go. If I didn't go... if I didn't accept the mission, then I wouldn't have to face Brad like that. I wouldn't have to attack him... neither of us would die by my hands and actions...  
  
"Aaauuhh--!!!!!" I screamed as arms circled me from behind, but was cut off by a large hand over my mouth. Before I could react, and bite the hand, the scent of lavender wafted into my nostrils.  
  
"You have to go, Ken," he said, slowly drawing his hand away. "It's your mission."  
  
I turned around, and there he was. He really was. He was standing, with his arms still around my shoulders, looking down into my eyes.  
  
"I can't... I'm supposed to kill you," I whispered. I knew if I tried to use my voice, my emotions would spill out in a flood of tears.  
  
He pulled me closer, hugging me. I wasn't sure what to do, and I tentatively reached my hands up, to touch him.  
  
"I know," he said. "You have to be there."  
  
"But..." I didn't know what I needed to say... or what I wanted to say. I knew I was still in love with him, but hadn't he told me, himself, to leave him alone? Why was he here? "I have to attack you. I can't... I can't let Aya down..."  
  
"So don't," Brad whispered. One of his hands was in my hair, gently stroking, soothing me. "Don't let him down."  
  
"I... can't kill you," I choked out. "I can't do it."  
  
"You have to be there," he said again.  
  
I pulled away from him, angry, and glared up at him. "You want me to come and try to kill you?!" I hissed. "I won't!" He just looked back into my eyes.  
  
"I'm going to be there," he said softly.  
  
I shook my head. "Then I'm not. I won't do it."  
  
"You have to."  
  
I looked down at the ground. "No, I don't. I love you. I still love you. I can't hurt you... I can't kill you..." I felt my shoulders shaking, and my eyes starting to burn. Brad, you were hurting me so much!  
  
He put his finger under my chin, and lifted my head, so he could look into my eyes. "Ken..."  
  
I bit my lip. "...What?" I asked harshly.  
  
"Show me..." He sighed, and cupped my cheek with his warm hand. "Ken, show me how much you love me. Be there."  
  
There was a ringing in my ears, and I felt myself get lightheaded. I'm sure I would have fallen over if Brad hadn't been there, holding me up. He wanted me to be there, to kill him.  
  
I shook my head. "No." Damn, the betrayal of my eyes. As soon as he'd spoken, I felt a tear run down my cheek. Now it was followed by many more. Instinctively, I pressed my face against his chest. "I won't do it."  
  
"Please. Ken." No, Brad, I thought, Don't ask me this. I can't do this... "You have to be there."  
  
"No..."  
  
"For me, Ken," he said. "Just do this for me."  
  
Why was he asking? He had to know... of course. He knew something that I didn't... something I couldn't possibly know. By then, I knew he was clairvoyant, that he could see the future. It explained a lot about things that had left me wondering, just years before. He knew what the outcome of the next day's events would be.  
  
"Are you going to die?" I asked him.  
  
As he answered, I could hear the frown in his voice... memories like that don't change. "You know I can't tell you that."  
  
"You used to... you used to always tell me you'd be okay," I whispered. "The plane... you said the plane wouldn't crash..."  
  
"I know," he replied, stroking my hair again. "But this is different. If I tell you, now, everything could change."  
  
I tried to make sense of what he was saying. "Does that mean you don't want to tell me you're going to live, because if you tell me, then it'll change, and you'll die?" I looked up, into his face.  
  
He blinked, for a moment, sorting through what I had said. "...That's not what I said," he said, finally. "Just don't ask. Just be there."  
  
"I love you," I said.  
  
He smiled at me. It was the same smile that melted my heart and turned me into a little happy puddle of Hidaka Ken, back when I was sixteen. "I love you, too, Ken," he said. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Will you be there?"  
  
I sighed and pushed my nose up against his collarbone. "...Only... only because you want me to," I said after a moment.  
  
His arms around me tightened. "Thank you."  
  
I hugged him back, feeling wonderfully happy and horribly sad. I'll never be able to imagine how he felt, knowing what would happen the next day.  
  
"...What now?" I asked.  
  
"Don't talk."  
  
I think I fell asleep in his arms. When I woke, it was nearly dawn, and we were slumped uncomfortably on a park bench near the fountain. He was already awake.  
  
We didn't talk. We stood, adjusted our clothes, and walked out of the park. He followed me to within a block of my apartment. Then he hugged me again.  
  
"Goodbye, Ken."  
  
I pressed a kiss to his chin. "I want you to stay for a bit longer," I said. "I don't know if--"  
  
He silenced me with a gentle shake of his head. "No, Ken."  
  
"Please, Brad?"  
  
The corners of his mouth twitched, and I could tell he was trying to suppress a smile. He kissed me quickly. "I've got some paperwork to take care of," he said. "I'll see you tonight."  
  
I barely caught the kiss, and then he turned, walking away down the street. I couldn't tell--did he want this goodbye to seem informal, so that it hurt less? Why did he have to act so nonchalant, when all I wanted was to hold him and never let go? "Goodbye, Brad," I said, belatedly.  
  
He didn't turn around, but he raised a hand slightly, to wave. I finished the walk to my apartment, hoping to get a little more sleep before the dreaded mission, that night. As I crawled into my bed, I realized what he'd said. A hint. A hint to what was going to happen the next day. 'I've got some paperwork to take care of.'  
  
"Damn," I whispered. Paperwork... I thought, he must have meant... not his Will... oh, Brad... No. I cried myself back to sleep. Final paperwork. "No..."  
  
---  
---  
  



	6. Part 5

Experienced Weiss Kreuz fans and authors:  
  
Forgive me, I beg of you. I am among the unfortunate, uninitiated people, who have never really seen or read the series, but I've formulated an idea of what happens, from the marvelous fanfictions out there that I've read.  
  
This story is an extremely *sappy*, *angsty*, and undoubtedly *horribly* out-of-character pairing between Brad, my favorite clairvoyant, and Ken, a fellow soccer-player. And I mean SAP, SAP, *SAP*, okay?  
  
I understand that this is one of those "rare" pairings, but, well... I kinda like it!  
  
---  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Sap, angst, and shonein-ai situations. Brad+Ken, plus a few other pairs mentioned along the way...  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*  
  
---  
  
"Lavender"  
-Part Five-  
  
---  
  
Catwalks. I hated catwalks. Why was it that one out of three missions involved an abandoned warehouse with goddamned catwalks? It's not the height that bothers me, but the looming presence of someone above you.  
  
Well, I knew it was Omi, sitting up on the catwalks. He'd picked a place where he could see most of the inside of the building, yet not be heard when he spoke into his communicator. I still didn't like catwalks.  
  
I was waiting behind a broken-down forklift. Youji was at the door Omi told him that Nagi was most likely to come through. Aya stood in the center of the building, illuminated by the only working light.  
  
Omi's voice came through my headphones. "Balinese, there are two coming towards your door--it looks like Shuldich and Nagi."  
  
"Roger," I heard Youji reply. If Shuldich was with Nagi, then Youji would have to back away, and find another way to attack.  
  
"Crawford and Farfarello are coming in the main entrance."  
  
"Ready," Aya said.  
  
"...Ready," I affirmed. I'm not sure if I sounded as ready as I was supposed to be. I probably didn't, considering I wasn't ready at all.  
  
For old doors to a condemned warehouse, they were pretty quiet. I watched Brad and Farfarello walk in. They passed the office and the check-in dock, and headed straight for Aya. I braced myself for what I was going to have to do.  
  
"Five," Omi whispered. "Four." I knew he was sighting Farfarello for an arrow. "Three."  
  
It was silent. The heels of Brad's and Farfarello's shoes didn't even echo in the dusty room. The countdown continued in my head. Two. One.  
  
Farfarello jumped. Literally. Straight up in the air. He reached down to pluck the arrow out of midair, then threw it back, before he landed. I fought to keep quiet, but there was no cry, so he must have missed Omi.  
  
Then everything else went wrong.  
  
Anyone else would have thought that the sight of Nagi and Shu, racing wildly into the center of the room, chased by Youji, would have been funny. I suppose there was a certain sick humor in the situation... Aya made a flying leap for Shu, katana flashing in the light, and barely managed to pull up before bouncing off of Youji's back. Both of my teammates rolled, and were back on their feet in seconds. Nagi was looking wildly around, unguarded. I knew Omi would not fire down into the melee, because he might hit one of his own team.  
  
I set my resolve. I wasn't going to let Aya down. I was biting my lip so hard that it bled, but I ran out from behind the forklift, readying my weapon.  
  
The thing about my weapon is that... it's just like punching someone. Uppercut, backhand, a sharp right... the moves are all the same, but the result is messier. I'd never hit Brad, before. We never punched each other playfully... we preferred to hold hands. There's a big difference. I tried to think that I was just punching him, lightly, even. It was a punch. I was punching him.  
  
I yelled. It must have sounded like an animal, because that's what I felt like. Brad turned around in time to see me raise my hand formed into a fist, and I struck. He went down.  
  
Shu cried out. I barely heard him. I was watching Brad's face, contorted with pain, as he sank to his knees in front of me. I was horrified. I'd hit him between the shoulder and neck, and there was so much blood...  
  
"Brad!!" I howled. I couldn't believe I'd done it... I hated myself, and I hated Brad, for convincing me to be there, that night. I retracted my claws, and rushed forward to catch him.  
  
It was surreal. Everyone stopped. Brad looked up at me, smiled--he smiled, damn him!--and then his eyes fluttered shut. I was shaking. I couldn't see anything but Brad. Brad. God...  
  
Dimly, I heard Shu choking an order to Nagi and Farfarello. "Out," he said, his voice tight. "Let's go. Regroup." I knew Aya, Youji, and Omi must be wondering what the Hell was going on... I wasn't quite sure, myself.  
  
I looked up. Youji and Aya were facing the door where the three members of Schwarz were leaving. Their hands were twitching, as if they were trying to decide to attack, or let them go. I didn't wait for their decision. Brad was in my arms. I jumped to my feet, and ran.  
  
It took me twenty minutes, along back roads, hiding from any light. Brad was heavy, but I was determined to get him to the park. As my breathing became heavier, I noticed the faint scent of lavender coming from Brad's body.  
  
"Not now... don't make me remember until I get there..." I gasped. Finally, I made it to the park. It was exactly twenty-four hours since we had met there, the night before.  
  
There were trees behind the fountain, and I fell down among them. I cradled Brad in my arms, cursing everything that had happened, and whispering soft apologies. I was crying. I loved Brad, and I killed him. Not only that, but he had asked me to. 'Show me how much you love me,' he had said. Come kill me, was what he meant. Why, Brad? Why?  
  
When I met him, I thought he was handsome. Cute, even, with his glasses and brown eyes. Now those glasses were splattered with Brad's own blood. I sniffed, wondering how in the world he had managed to keep the same pair of wire-frames for four years... I know I would have broken them by then, but my Brad was more careful than I... My Brad... My Brad...  
  
"My Brad," I whispered. My throat hurt, and my nose was running, but I didn't care. I pulled Brad closer to me. As I looked down his back, I saw my own stained hands. And the weapon that had done this to Brad.  
  
I formed my hand into a fist. I watched in awe, as if for the first time, as the razor-sharp claws /schicked/ out of their casing and reflected the moonlight. I stared at them. Brad was dead, I thought. Brad was dead... Dead... Claws...  
  
"I think he'd get upset, if you did."  
  
I couldn't jump, because Brad weighed me down, but I did start, when I heard Youji's voice. He stepped around the tree I was leaning against, and kneeled down.  
  
"What do *you* know?" I asked harshly, my voice cracking.  
  
Youji put his hands over my weapon, and he forced me to relax. The blades were silently pulled back into their sheaths. "Why would you want to kill yourself?"  
  
I gulped. That was a good question. He was right. Brad would hate me if I killed myself because I'd lost him.  
  
"You're in love with him?" he asked softly. Youji may be blunt, sometimes brutally so... but I guess he knows when it's time for joking, and when someone honestly needs comforting.  
  
I glanced up into Youji's eyes. I was scared. Scared because I had killed Brad, and scared of Youji's reaction, now that he knew. I couldn't lie to him. I nodded.  
  
"How long?"  
  
My hands clenched in Brad's shirt. "Before Weiss," I whispered.  
  
"And him?"  
  
"He..." I bit my lip, and felt blood trickle down my chin. "He loved me, too."  
  
Youji made a small sound of sympathy, but I didn't want to hear it. Brad was gone. With his simple questions, Youji managed to drag the entire story from me... it took less than five minutes, and I started crying again.  
  
Youji put a hand on my shoulder. "Ken," whispered, "Let's get home." Then he reached out, to take Brad from me.  
  
"No!" I held Brad firmly. Dead or not, I didn't want to let go of him.  
  
"Ken..." Youji said slowly, pulling at Brad, again. "Ken, look."  
  
"Uhn?" I looked up. Youji had pressed his hand against Brad's back. His hand was half covered in moonlight. Then it was dark again. Then half-covered. And then dark. Up, and down. I stared. Something... something I'd been too distracted and distressed to notice, before. "He's... he's..."  
  
"Breathing," Youji finished.  
  
---  
---  
  



	7. Part 6

Experienced Weiss Kreuz fans and authors:  
  
Forgive me, I beg of you. I am among the unfortunate, uninitiated people, who have never really seen or read the series, but I've formulated an idea of what happens, from the marvelous fanfictions out there that I've read.  
  
This story is an extremely *sappy*, *angsty*, and undoubtedly *horribly* out-of-character pairing between Brad, my favorite clairvoyant, and Ken, a fellow soccer-player. And I mean SAP, SAP, *SAP*, okay?  
  
I understand that this is one of those "rare" pairings, but, well... I kinda like it!  
  
---  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Sap, angst, and shonein-ai situations. Brad+Ken, plus a few other pairs mentioned along the way...  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*  
  
---  
  
"Lavender"  
-Part Six-  
  
---  
  
Now, as I look at him, laying quietly in the bed I made up for him, I wonder what's going to happen. His shoulder is wrapped thickly in bandages and plaster, but he's been washed clean of blood.  
  
Aya, Omi, and Youji have left me alone. They're in my apartment. They're sitting in my kitchen, sipping coffee, but they've left me alone. With Brad. I don't know what Youji told them... I know he wouldn't lie to them, but I doubt he told them the whole truth, either.  
  
Brad licks his lips, and yawns. He's cute when he yawns, even if he's not wearing his glasses. I took them off so that they wouldn't get lost in the emergency rush at the hospital. Now they sit, cleaned, on the desk beside his bed. "Ken..."  
  
I step forward, and touch my hand to his uninjured shoulder, the one closest to me. "Yeah?"  
  
"Mmm." He smiles, and opens his eyes. "I love you."  
  
For some reason, I find myself unable to smile back. "What's going to happen, now, Brad?"  
  
He closes his eyes again. "You collect your pay from Kritiker," he says, as if that were the obvious answer.  
  
I frown. "Kritiker only pays us if you're all dead," I say.  
  
"And we will be."  
  
"Not..." I shake my head. "Not if I have anything to say about it!"  
  
"But Bradley Crawford is dead," he says, raising an eyebrow, "And Schwarz cannot operate without him there to run things."  
  
This isn't making sense to me. I don't understand. "Brad, I don't--"  
  
"The others left, after you hit me, right?" he asks. I nod. "Then, as far as they know, I am dead. That is what they will report to what remains of Estet."  
  
Shu will know, I think. "What about Shu... He knows. He has to know, doesn't he?"  
  
I think this is the first time I've ever seen Brad grin like this. His whole face lights up, and he looks especially pleased with... something. "Shuldich will tell Estet exactly what he saw. You hit me, and I fell down. I didn't return."  
  
Realization dawns upon me. "You-you're faking death?" I ask, wide-eyed. "And... and Shu's helping you!"  
  
"You did it," he reminds me.  
  
"But... I wasn't *trying* to..." Another thought hits me. "Why, Brad?"  
  
He closes his eyes again, and his hand reaches up to cover mine. "Schwarz is done with, Ken. We're done. Tired. To quote Nagi, we can't take it any more."  
  
"Killing?"  
  
"Mm-hm." He's smiling again, and our fingers are intertwined. "Killing. Working a thankless job. I, in particular, have better things I would like to do with my life." Now he's looking at me, in my eyes, and I realize that he means *me*.  
  
I gulp. "And the others?"  
  
"They agree. Nagi has found himself... drawn... to someone who would not accept him, if he was part of Schwarz. He told me, himself, that they mean more to him than Schwarz does."  
  
I blink. Nagi, the youngest member of Schwarz, who couldn't be any more than sixteen... The same age I was, when I met Brad.  
  
"It's Bombay," Brad says, chuckling, and I stare at him.  
  
"*Omi*?!?!" What was it mom used to say about manners? Don't screech in the injured man's ear. Brad winces, and I'm instantly sorry, but he's still chuckling. "You're... you're kidding..." I'm blustering, but Nagi... Omi... the thought isn't quite connecting.  
  
"What? Ken?!" Omi's outside the room, knocking on the door. Of course, he must have heard me yell. I let him in. "Ken! What's wrong?" he asks.  
  
Aya's coming down the hall, an angry look on his face, and I can see Youji's blond hair, behind him. I pull Omi towards me and whisper, "What do you know about Nagi?"  
  
I know Brad's right, when Omi turns a deep scarlet. Christ, I didn't think even *I* blushed *that* badly! "K-Ken!" he stammers. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Ken?" Aya asks. "What's going on?"  
  
"I was just talking with Brad," I say innocently. A particularly dark look comes over Aya's face... apparently, he doesn't like my having a first-name relationship with Schwarz. "He's not Schwarz, anymore," I add, hoping that will help.  
  
Aya snorts. "He's lying."  
  
"No," Brad says, from the bed. Of course he can hear us... we're only a few feet away, even if we're speaking softly. "Schwarz... is done."  
  
"How d'you figure that?" Omi asks, stepping into my room. He's not afraid of Brad. Brad isn't particularly dangerous when he's laid up in bed like this. Omi hovers near the foot of the bed, waiting for an answer as Aya, followed by Youji, enters the room.  
  
Brad sighs. "It's my plan," he says slowly. "Infallible, I think. Shuldich is telling Estet that I am dead..."  
  
"You came too close," I mutter. Youji is the only one who hears me, and he gives me a somewhat amused glance.  
  
"...He will tell them only the truth," Brad goes on, "That Ken hit me, and I went down..."  
  
"Were you part of this?" Aya asks me sharply.  
  
There is death in Aya's eyes... I know how he hates traitors and double-crossers. "No!" I say. "I... I had no idea this was gonna happen!"  
  
Omi glances curiously between me and Brad, and I can almost see the realization formulating in his head. "So... what's the plan?" he asks Brad.  
  
Brad lifts his head, slightly, to get a look at Omi. I have to refrain myself from pushing him back against the bed--the doctor told me that he was not to move unless absolutely required to, i.e. eating and going to the bathroom. But Brad smiles slightly, having seen Omi's big, questioning eyes, and settles himself back on the pillows.  
  
"Without me to guide them," Brad says, "Schwarz will fall apart. Shuldich cannot take over... neither can Nagi. Farfarello is out of the question!" he laughs. "Estet has no replacement for me, so Schwarz will be..." He looks up at the ceiling, trying to find an analogy, and I get a good look into his brown eyes... He looks at me, and continues. "...Schwarz will be like a snake, without its head. Once the head is gone, the rest will slowly die."  
  
Youji's eyebrows are pressed together, and he is nodding as he makes sense of Brad's plan. Aya is still glowering, his fingers tapping lightly at the hilt of his sheathed katana.  
  
Omi speaks up. "What do you mean, 'die?'"  
  
Brad doesn't answer him immediately. He looks at Aya. "Aya?" he asks, testing the name.  
  
Aya's hand tightens around the sword hilt, and I tense. "What?" he asks tersely.  
  
"You prefer to take tougher missions, for more money... You know very well that these three..." he indicated Youji, Omi, and myself, "...Can take care of themselves, without you. However, you also like to think that, without you, they wouldn't stand a chance against the real world."  
  
As Brad speaks, Aya's eyes widen slowly. It seems that Brad speaks the truth. Youji, Omi, and I are appropriately silent--Brad is trying to make his peace with Aya.  
  
Brad nods. "I'm the same way. Those who are left at Estet also believe that Schwarz is incapable, without me. That's why they won't be surprised when Nagi disappears, in a week."  
  
"What?!" Omi cries, jumping forward. "Wha... Why? What's going to happen to him?" His eyes are big and worried, and I remember what Brad had said about Nagi's feelings towards him.  
  
Aya and Youji are slowly coming to comprehend Omi's feelings, and Brad laughs.  
  
"Nagi won't be hurt... maybe a little," Brad says, "But he will fake his death, like me." Omi relaxes, and blushes as he realizes how his outburst must have sounded, to the rest of us.  
  
The whole thing makes sense, now. I understand. Youji, Omi, and Aya understand, too.  
  
"It's brilliant," Youji whispers. "You're... disappearing. As far as Estet knows..."  
  
"We'll all be dead," Brad finishes. "In a month, or less."  
  
Aya is the only one who is still tense. "Why?" he asks. "What reason?"  
  
Brad just smiles at Aya. "Ken."  
  
Aya whirls to look incredulously at me, and I feel my ears burn. I can practically see my own nose turn red! "Brad!" I admonish, turning slightly away from him.  
  
Youji chuckles. "Don't embarrass him!" he laughs. "That's my job!"  
  
"Youji!"  
  
"What the *Hell* do you mean, *Ken*?!" Aya hisses.  
  
"I don't want Schwarz anymore," Brad says. "I'm tired of that... life. That was no life. I want Ken." He's teasing me! Dammit, Brad, as soon as these guys leave the room...  
  
"You... want... Ken," Aya repeats slowly. "Ken..." He looks at me, in my face. I was never a good liar in the first place... Aya can see the truth written all over my face, right now. He sighs. I think this is the first time I've ever really seen him look... defeated. "I think... I think I need something to drink."  
  
Youji laughs, and steps around to pat Aya on the shoulder. He starts steering him out of the room, and calls back over his shoulder, to me. "I hope you don't mind if I tell him the whole story! C'mon, Aya, I've got a bottle of Boone's Farm that you'll love..."  
  
I look at Brad, and at Omi. They look at each other, and at me. Finally, Omi speaks.  
  
"So... Nagi's gonna be okay?" he asks shyly.  
  
"Yes," Brad says. Omi sighs in relief. "He told me to tell you 'hello,' for him."  
  
Omi smiles. "Thank you," he says. There is an awkward moment of silence. "Um," Omi humms, and then scurries out of the room. I imagine he's heading towards his computer.  
  
Now it's me and Brad again. I think the others will leave us alone for the rest of the night.  
  
"Ken."  
  
"...Yeah?"  
  
"I love you," Brad says.  
  
This time, I smile. I lean over, and press a kiss to his lips. "I love you, too."  
  
When I pull back, Brad tilts his head. "You're preoccupied."  
  
I sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle his body. "Yeah... I thought you were going to die," I say somewhat lamely.  
  
"Ah."  
  
"When you brought me home... you walked away... you said you had paperwork to finish up, and I thought..." I'm fidgeting, twiddling my thumbs and doing a very bad job of it. Twiddling isn't easy, but I can't look into Brad's face.  
  
"You thought I was writing my Will?" Brad asks.  
  
"...Yeah." I nod. "You weren't?"  
  
"Absolutely not!" I look over, and Brad grins at me. "Nagi and I were scrambling documents so that after we're all 'dead,' we'll still have access to our bank accounts and suchlike. We didn't feel like letting those idiots back at Estet have them back."  
  
I laugh. Of course! It makes sense now... I was just being pessimistic. "You're brilliant, Brad," I tell him.  
  
"Useless flattery. It'll never get you anywhere," he scoffs.  
  
"But it gets *you* everywhere!"  
  
"And that is exactly the way it should be." I laugh again, and Brad joins me. Maybe now... maybe now Brad and I can have our Heaven again. This is the way life *should* be.  
  
---  
---  
  
The End?  
  
---  
---  
  



	8. Epilogue

It's over! Done with! Huzzah!  
  
I understand that the ending was a little bit lengthy and then cut short... and altogether rather anticlimactic and very bad. Simpler put: I didn't like it. So here's a little bit of silliness and extra sap, to tie it off.  
  
---  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the pictures in my head  
  
Warning: Sap, angst, and shonein-ai situations. Brad+Ken, plus a few other pairs mentioned along the way...  
  
Author: Kasey  
  
Archive: Not unless I send it to you.  
  
Status: Complete, self-edited.  
  
Key: /italics/ and *emphasis*  
  
---  
  
"Lavender"  
-Epilogue-  
  
---  
  
"That was the last of my shampoo! Kudou!!" Shu stomps down the stairs and into the kitchen. He's holding a towel around his waist with one hand, and madly waving an empty bottle with the other. "Kudou! I stay out of *your* shampoo, goddammit! Stay out of mine!"  
  
Youji calmly sips at a cup of coffee. "That's for taking my last cigarette," he says.  
  
It's funny. When Shu gets mad, his hair puffs out, and without the bandanna to hold it down...  
  
"I do *not*!" he snaps at me. Oops. I forgot. Damn telepaths. I guess he didn't catch that last thought, because he's stomping back up the stairs. "If my hair is greasy for the rest of the day, I'm blaming you, Kudou!!" he yells towards the kitchen. No matter what he says, or how many threats he makes, Shu and Youji have become best friends, and hang out together more than any of the rest of us.  
  
Omi and Nagi walk into breakfast at the same time; as usual, they're holding hands. Aya, who is failing miserably at scrambling an egg, doesn't even glance up. He's accepted the members of what used to be Schwarz... Of course, the fact that he moved in with Youji, to make room for Shuldich and Farfarello, may have something to do with that.  
  
As for my 'romantic interest,' Brad is sitting slightly away from me, drinking coffee and reading an American paper called the /Times/. That's how he enjoys his breakfast, with his feet propped up on my lap. I don't complain, of course, because, well, at night, he's my pillow. We like being each other's furniture.  
  
Omi nudges Aya away from the stove, and finishes the eggs without setting off the smoke alarm. When Farfarello comes in, and pours himself a glass of milk to take his medications with, I realize that the kitchen is becoming crowded. Brad, always two steps ahead of me, pulls his feet off of my lap, and we move into the living room.  
  
"Who's shift?" Brad asks.  
  
"Me and Youji, this morning," I answer, pulling my set of keys out of my pants pocket. I figure I may as well start setting up the flower shop early. It's a nice day outside--we should have plenty of customers. "Nagi's got school... so it's Omi and Aya and Shu, this afternoon."  
  
Brad snorts. I think it's funny, because snorting is so... undistinguished. Not at all like my businessman-Brad. "I can't believe he's working," Brad mutters. He means Shu.  
  
"You're working, too," I remind him. He's taken a job as a translator and editor at a local newspaper. When they found out that he was originally American, but is more than fluent in Japanese, three different newspapers tripped all over each other, trying to hire him first. My Brad.  
  
He puts an arm around my waist, and pulls me close. He nuzzles my hair, and I kiss his cheek. My Brad. Since that day he told us that Schwarz was dead, he's never stopped smelling like lavender. I love it.  
  
"I've never been happier," he says. "You're mine, Ken. All mine."  
  
My Brad.  
  
---  
---  
  
The Real End  
  
---  
---  
  
Thanks, everyone, for reading! Special thanks to Lilie, who refrained from beaning me over the head when I mentioned that I was writing a Brad+Ken sap fic.  
  
I've had a few requests for more of this timeline, specifically Nagi+Omi, so I'm working on that, right now. Keep an eye out!  
  
Until next time...  
  
KASEY  
  
  
Bad things happen when I get bored.  
  



End file.
